


Broken Blades

by KinkyTrashCan



Category: Devil May Cry
Genre: Amnesia, Brainwashing, Child Abuse, Come Inflation, Devil Trigger Sex (Devil May Cry), Identity Issues, Knotting, M/M, Mundus is a bad parent, Sibling Incest, Threesome - F/F/M, Vergil is Nero's mom, forced c-section without anesthesia, mental and emotional manipulation, rampant speculation on demon/half-demon biology, rape/dub-con, threat of future violence made toward a minor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-10
Updated: 2020-10-10
Packaged: 2021-03-07 22:00:36
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,107
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26934745
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KinkyTrashCan/pseuds/KinkyTrashCan
Summary: After a moment of desperate passion between brothers, Vergil falls into the hands of their father's greatest enemy.  With his very mind and soul stolen by Mundus, Vergil knows nothing but the want to fulfill his Master's every desire.  And to protect their precious son, Nero.
Relationships: Dante & Nero (Devil May Cry), Dante/Vergil (Devil May Cry), Mundus/Vergil (Devil May Cry), Nero & Vergil (Devil May Cry)
Comments: 12
Kudos: 95





	Broken Blades

**Author's Note:**

> This has been sitting in my drive for an age, and I finally got up the courage to post it. This is purely and utterly self-indulgent AU garbage, but hopefully someone besides me will enjoy it too. Hearty thanks to Ridley from Twitter who was kind enough to take a look at this. If there are any typos, it's entirely my own fault.
> 
> Also some of my tags initially got replaced by the auto-complete options which were so far off from what I typed I didn't even think to check them. My deepest apologies if I caught anyone off guard because of that!

**I. Forging**

Dodging Dante's attacks was considerably harder this time around. Vergil teleported back a few steps to avoid the sweeping arc of Cerberus as his brother spun through the air. Dante was off balance because he was frustrated, but his rapid mastering of Devil Trigger more than made up for the shallow openings in his stances. Vergil felt a twinge of jealousy at the progress Dante had made in only a single day, reaching a level that had taken _him_ months of careful training and constant combat.

But now they were evenly matched, and Vergil was startled by how much that pleased him. He liked to think that was why he didn't evade Dante's sudden charge.

Vergil grunted when his back hit the wall, but Dante didn't give him any time to recover before his supernaturally sharp teeth sank into his older brother’s shoulder, almost to the bone. The enhanced aggression wasn't a surprise since Vergil had experienced the same delirious haze during his first few transformations. The naked desire in Dante’s burning red eyes _was_ unexpected, however.

"Mine," Dante hissed, hiking Vergil's scaly thighs over his elbows and forcing him to lean into the wall for support. "Mine, mine, mine, mine…"

"Foolish," Vergil replied, but an answering thrum of hunger rolled through him. He hooked his legs around his little brother's waist without even thinking about it, pulling Dante into the soft place within the sanctuary of his thighs. Being beaten, even momentarily, was provoking a need to expose himself that Vergil couldn't quantify.

For all the research and exploration, there were still things about their devil biology that caught him off guard. He knew that submission and dominance was an important part of some demons’ social hierarchies and mating rituals, but he had thought himself above such base inclinations. Apparently, he’d been wrong.

He arched in invitation, and Dante didn't disappoint.

His twin surged forward until they were flush against each other, grinding that vulnerable area of their groins together. "So stupid," Dante hissed. "Why can't you just stop all this?"

"You know why," Vergil returned, digging into Dante's back with his claws. The smell of blood was an aphrodisiac, stirring up their lust even further.

"It's just so… _stupid._ "

His head spinning from want, Vergil shifted his heels so they sat under Dante’s ass, giving him a bit more leverage to coax them even closer together. “You never did understand,” he said. But this was no time to lament.

“Vergil, please, I need… I _need_!” That whine in his brother's voice sounded like begging, and Vergil felt the strangest impression of armored plates shifting and a warm, wet space between his thighs opening in consent.

He hadn't bothered to fuck in this form before, but he had experimented on his own a bit, intrigued by the mutability of devilish bodies. Or at least _their_ devilish bodies; he hadn't taken the time to see if he could force other demons to change their shapes to suit him. Still, he couldn't stop his own flesh from creating a void to welcome Dante's strength into it, and he didn't want to.

A sigh of satisfaction escaped him when Vergil felt something hard and heavy and ridged pushing into him, a slow moving, inevitable force stretching him open until he spread his legs wider to receive it fully. His aching center suddenly needed to be filled by Dante’s massive cock more than he needed air.

With a snap of his hips, his twin was seated deep inside, and Vergil moaned long and low at the sensation. Thick, hot, powerful. The fullness was alien and sublime, like nothing he could hope to experience in his limited human shape. It was completion in its purest form.

"I-I can't…" Dante groaned, struggling to hold himself still.

"Then don't," Vergil said and gasped when Dante withdrew only to slam home again.

Their coupling was frenzied and clumsy, driven by long buried need. Dante tried to kiss him but gave up when it became clear that their Devil Triggers didn't mesh together as elegantly with their mouths as they did elsewhere. He buried his face into Vergil's collarbone instead, but that wasn't what Vergil wanted, so he grabbed Dante's horns and forced his head up.

"Don't look away," he insisted. "I want to see you--!"

His words were broken by the furious thrust that felt like it would push him through the wall at his back. The indecent sounds their bodies made only served to heighten his ardor, leaving Vergil to roll his hips to meet each delicious lunge.

“I love you, dumbass. Why isn’t that enough?” Dante growled. He was still staring up at Vergil thanks to the hands holding his horns in place.

It was. And it wasn’t. Dante’s love had always formed a part of Vergil’s core, and losing him was like having a vital organ torn out. He had spent the intervening years wandering the world with a gaping hole in his heart. All he had cared about was protecting what little he had left: himself.

But then he learned Dante was _alive_ , and he was still trying to recalibrate his soul to account for it. He had no way of making Dante understand just what that meant for him, no safe way to show that raw part of himself that he’d been trying hard to shield for so long.

“Because it’s not,” Vergil answered instead. Because he couldn’t let it be, or every terrible thing he’d done and suffered would have been for nothing.

“Then I’ll _make_ it enough,” Dante said, and Vergil realized he very much wanted him to try. 

His claws raked against his little brother’s demonic hide with a clatter, and Dante dug his fingers into the underside of Vergil’s legs to ground them both. An inhuman heat throbbed within Vergil, pistoning into a soft, new place inside him that sparked across his pleasure drenched nerves. It was overwhelming and made more so by the fact it was his beloved twin. Dante’s cock speared him over and over until he could finally stop thinking and just let himself _feel_.

This… This was _right_. Whatever their current conflict, they were always meant to be together, to be one. Vergil's body knew this instinctively, he decided, giving him the means to take Dante into himself and join them together. As Dante's motions became erratic, Vergil knew he wanted even more, everything he could get from this fleeting moment.

He tilted his hips and spread his thighs as wide as he could, using his shoulders braced against the wall to push himself rhythmically against his twin. Vergil could feel the broad bulb at the root of Dante's dick thumping against his entrance and instinct demanded he take it all.

The bulb sank part way into his opening, dragging a moan from Dante and sending a spike of frantic need straight through Vergil's groin. If he didn’t have everything _now_ , he might just lose his mind.

"Vergil, I'm gonna… Shit!" Dante bit him again, on the throat this time, and Vergil purred in delight.

"Do it. I want this," Vergil insisted. And, oh how he did.

Dante shoved forward, and Vergil howled when the knot drove past his edges and fully into him. His body spasmed in devastating pleasure, stealing away anything else he could say in encouragement, but the pulsing of his brother's cock inside him was just as transcendent as he’d known it would be.

He could feel the jets of hot seed, sealed in by Dante's swollen knot that closed any gaps between them, filling him until his stomach rounded slightly. It was a part of his twin, his other half, some of Dante's very life that Vergil accepted as deeply inside as he could manage to gather it. It was the distilled essence of his boundless brother melding with himself.

Vergil lay a hand on his distended belly and let the euphoria of their consummation sweep him away. His eyes fluttered closed, wanting this unity to thrive and grow into something tangible that would bind them permanently because, all too soon, they would be at odds again. No matter Dante's wish that he abandon his quest, Vergil _would_ gain the power he needed to defend himself and everything that he cared for.

He couldn’t live without his brother again.

"Next time..." Dante panted. "Next time you'll be inside me, yeah?"

The glowing eyes searched his face, and Vergil traced clawed fingers along his brother's cheek. He knew what Dante was really asking, why he'd been so desperate in their mating. He'd wanted this to be forever, and Vergil wanted that too even if his brother was incapable of understanding or accepting his methods.

"Next time," Vergil promised. “Next time.”

* * *

**II. Quenching**

Awareness rolled back in like a tide, dragging the detritus of memory and realization with it. Falling into the Underworld. Defeat, Yamato shattered. Being strung up like a puppet on caustic strings by his most hated enemy. He'd turned away the sincere hand of the one he loved more than any other and was facing the consequences for it.

After all his foolish promises too.

Vergil forced his head up. He must have passed out, but he certainly wasn't going to give Mundus the satisfaction of thinking he'd won. His pride wouldn't allow that after being bruised by his brother.

"So, you are with us again," Mundus said, shrouded in shadows simply from the vastness of the chamber they were in.

"So I am. I will never yield," Vergil declared hoarsely. He’d screamed so much last time that his vocal cords still hadn’t fully recovered.

"We shall see," Mundus drawled.

Pain ripped through Vergil like a thousand phantom knives. It was blessedly brief, and the source was unknown -- unlike the spikes that had pierced through his shoulder and leg. He could only assume it was generated by some demonic power, but it caused him alarm all the same.

Which confused him. He'd been grievously wounded on many occasions in the past and never felt the kind of terror he had each time Mundus damaged him now. It clawed under his skin, demanding him to flee, to make whatever sacrifices he needed to preserve his body. What kind of drive made him want to safeguard his physical form even above his own wellbeing? It made no sense. 

He didn't have time to contemplate it long before another jolt of agony cascaded through his nerves, longer and more intense than before. Vergil doubled over. Or he tried to. The fibrous restraints held him in place more securely than any chains, so the most he could do was hunch his shoulders forward in a vain attempt to shield his center. The excruciating pain suddenly stopped, and Mundus leaned towards him from out of the darkness.

"What is this?" the demon king said curiously.

A hand large enough to fit Vergil in its palm reached for him. He snarled when the cold fingers brushed against his belly. Even with all that his enemy had inflicted on him so far to break his spirit, _this_ felt like the worst violation, and he didn't understand why.

"Aaah, the seat of life," Mundus murmured, deep voice echoing despite the lowered volume. "How unexpected that you are capable of this with such a miserable human form. But I can make use of it… Yessss."

"What… are you talking about?" Vergil breathlessly demanded. The seat of life? It almost sounded like… No, that was impossible. Wasn't it?

The blasphemously god-like figure moved back, and Vergil bared his teeth at the condescending chuckle. "Do not concern yourself,” Mundus said. “Though perhaps you should feel fortunate that I have changed my mind as to your fate. Rather than temper your weakness into strength, I will let you wallow in your frailty. It makes you so much more… alluring."

Disgust roiled in Vergil, and he peeled his lips back into a sneer. The very thought of Mundus finding him desirable in any way was an affront. There was only one who was worthy of him. "I am not weak. I am a son of Sparda, and I will _never_ be your plaything."

"We shall see."

Black, viscous sludge surged over him, and Vergil tried to fight the panic that lanced through him. He twisted his face away as it crawled over his neck and up his jaw.

"You bast--!" His insult cut off when his mouth was sealed shut. Fear drummed like a heartbeat in his head, and he dropped his eyes toward the part of himself he wanted to protect the most.

Strangely, the dark substance left a careful, clear space around his stomach, rippling and writhing near it but never over. Vergil couldn't understand the wave of relief he felt while the rest of his body was swallowed completely.

Mundus' voice reverberated through his skull. "Do not fret, my angel. I have plans for you and what you carry within. When I am finished with you, all you will feel is gratitude for my mercy."

 _Never_ , Vergil insisted to himself. He would never give in, he had only one equal. No matter what, Vergil would survive this. He had no choice. There were promises to keep.

Laughter chilled his blood, and he shuddered when a stony fingertip stroked his abdomen. "Oh, you will live, son of Sparda, but it will be because of my largess. In time, you will give yourself to me willingly, piece by piece, until no part of you is your own. Everything that comes from you will belong to me."

Vergil squeezed his eyes shut in the blackness and felt a dread so deep it infected his very cells. He was disconnected here in the emptiness, adrift without anchor. The only thing he could feel was Mundus' corrupted caress trailing over his belly, again and again and again.

After a while, he couldn't remember anything else.

* * *

**III. Forming**

Nelo Angelo gasped, wrapping his fists in the silken bed sheets beneath him. The skin of his stomach went taut under the force of the contraction, sending pressure rippling from his back into his lower abdomen. They were coming so close now, and despite the pain, his anticipation was far stronger.

The memories of being found by Master Mundus, alone, abandoned by everyone else, were hazy and too far away. Dimly, he recalled that he'd been angry when Mundus initially touched him, but what a fool he'd been to feel that way. Master had only wanted to protect him, and Nelo Angelo was so very glad to be able to give the one he owed his life a gift from his own pathetic body.

A child. _Their_ child.

Watching his belly grow as their offspring did brought him incredible joy, knowing this life he was nurturing would be for his master's happiness. It had been a long gestation, at least compared to human norms, and Nelo Angelo already felt so close to the baby. He spent much of the last month of his pregnancy lying in bed, speaking softly in the hopes that his little one would know his voice the moment they emerged into the world. His fingers twitched and then clenched again as another contraction rolled through him like a tidal wave.

It would be soon. He would finally get to meet his child. He wanted so badly to touch his swollen stomach as if that could comfort the being inside him, but the hag attending his birth wanted no obstructions while she worked. The next contraction left him gasping for air.

"Master, now?" Nelo Angelo glanced at Mundus standing at the bedside, transformed into a figure that was too beautiful to be human. Long, dark hair, three piercing eyes, almost difficult to look at in his glory.

Mundus smiled resplendently. "No."

Confused, Nelo Angelo blinked at him. In his own, ugly human form he didn't have the correct external structures to give birth, so he had assumed his master would want him to transform into his devil shape which could convert itself in the necessary ways.

But Master didn't find his Devil Trigger very appealing, and Master was wiser than he.

Another contraction bowed him upward, and Nelo Angelo tried very hard to breathe through it. His child, _Master's_ child, would be the end result of all this agony. What a worthy sacrifice.

"It's time," the hag declared, curving her boney fingers around Nelo Angelo's stomach. Some part of him despised the touch so close to what was precious to him, but it was what Master wanted. He would endure it.

Mundus nodded at her, a terrible smile curling his lips, and Nelo Angelo choked off a scream when she slashed open his abdomen with her impeccably sharp nails. The unexpected pain was more shocking than what his own body had been inflicting on him. He had to clench his fists even harder to keep himself still as she dug into his stomach, pushing organs out of the way, and coming to where the baby was nestled inside him.

"M-Master?" he questioned. He _shouldn't_ question, he knew that, but…

"It's better this way," Mundus explained. His marble-cold fingers brushed over Nelo Angelo's jaw. "You look so much more like your father in this shape."

"If t-that makes you happy, Master," he said, though he didn't understand. His throat tightened as the pain became overwhelming, but he was thankful that he didn't make too much noise. Master only liked it when he screamed for him.

The hag made a sound of interest when she pulled the baby from his torn womb, and an insistent, mewling cry filled the opulent room, bringing a smile of relief and wonder to Nelo Angelo’s lips. He watched in amazement as the newborn squirmed in the hag's hands, healthy and covered in viscera, so real and utterly, completely perfect. For a moment, he thought he might shed the tears that burned in his eyes.

"A male child," she said, peering in fascination. "Very human looking, though. I see no outward evidence of devil blood, but I can feel it within. He will be quite strong someday."

Nelo Angelo desperately wanted to hold him, but he dared not ask until Master approved.

"Clean it up," Mundus instructed. "Let's give my concubine a moment to recover."

The stone-chilled fingers touched his face again, and Nelo Angelo pressed into the cold. He could feel his body stitching itself together, organs shifting back into place and flesh mending on its own. Only the wetness of his blood soaking the sheets made it uncomfortable.

"Are you pleased with your son, Master?" Nelo Angelo asked anxiously.

"My son?" Mundus looked puzzled for a few seconds. "Ah yes, of course. I believe he will be… beneficial."

"Beneficial…" He shouldn't be disappointed, Nelo Angelo reminded himself. Master knew best. Being useful to Mundus was part of being loved by him; you made yourself useful to him because you loved _him_ , and he was sure every one of Mundus' servants felt the same.

The baby's cries intensified, and Nelo Angelo tried to lever himself up to see what the hag was doing with his child. He couldn't get a clear enough view to ease the prickling in his heart that the plaintive noises brought out. "Master, is everything alri--?”

"I have a gift for you."

Nelo Angelo blinked in surprise. "A gift? For me?"

Mundus smiled and held out a gold amulet set with a large red stone. Something _ached_ in the back of his skull at the sight of it, and Nelo Angelo tried not to recoil when his master leaned in to settle it around his neck. The weight tugged at things under his surface that he didn't want to confront when he was already emotionally upheaved. Why did he feel like he knew this necklace?

"This will remind you who you belong to," Mundus said. "Any time you see it, you will know you are mine. I bid you to always wear it."

"Thank you, Master," Nelo Angelo said quietly. He should be grateful for this blessing, so why did the bright jewel make him bereft? It was disorientingly warm in his palm.

The hag approaching was a welcome distraction, and Nelo Angelo craned his neck to see the bundle in her hands. Wrapped in a luxurious black blanket befitting the son of the Underworld's mighty king was their precious, wailing son crowned in damp silver hair. Whatever thoughts of despair had been welling inside him fled immediately.

Mundus took a moment to inspect the baby but didn't touch him before nodding. Nelo Angelo held out his arms in a silent request. He didn't really have any rights to ask for anything as a concubine, but he was thankful when the hag lay the child on his chest. This thriving weight tugged on something inside him too, something oddly close to the amulet.

"He's so beautiful," Nelo Angelo whispered in awe. The baby finally quieted into little whimpering snuffles when he stroked the downy hair, and pure blue eyes looked up at him from a round face.

It was a moment before Mundus spoke. "I'm… sure he will be quite remarkable when he grows older. Perhaps just as lovely as his mother."

"I hope that he looks like his father," Nelo Angelo said quickly. Because he did. Mundus was magnificent and ethereal, not so pitifully _human_ as Nelo Angelo.

A strange smile tilted Master's thin lips. "How intriguing that would be."

Unsettled, Nelo Angelo drew his son closer. It might be unfair to ask Mundus to bond with the child as quickly as he had. Nelo Angelo had carried this life inside himself for months and months, and Mundus might need more time to forge a connection.

"Master, what shall we call him?" Nelo Angelo asked.

"A name. Hmmm…" Mundus stared at the baby, still smiling mysteriously. "I think… Nero. So he takes after his mother. Obedient and delicate, a black angel."

"A very good name, Master," Nelo Angelo murmured. He looked down at his son, his Nero, cradled in his arms and wondered why his heart throbbed so painfully from Mundus' wishes for their child.

But it would be fine. His wonderful Master would make everything right in the end.

* * *

**IV. Heat Treating**

Nelo Angelo scrabbled to get a hold on the headboard when Mundus' thrust nearly sent him face first into it. Master liked it when he was submissive, liked him on his knees, but the pain of those couplings often outweighed any scraps of pleasure Master thought to offer him.

But it didn't matter. This is what he was meant for.

Fingers twisted in his hair, and Nelo Angelo cried out. Of course. Mundus had wanted him to be vocal this time. "Master, Master, yes! You feel so good! Please, more!"

Mundus' laughter reverberated through him, chest pressed to Nelo Angelo’s back. "More, you say? Very well." His hips slammed against Nelo Angelo and forced his cold length deeper into his ass. It _hurt_ , and Nelo Angelo grit his teeth. A fleeting memory passed close enough for him to try to seize it.

Another strong body against his. Warmth. That sex had been hard and fast too, but any pain had been a crucial part of fulfilling pleasure, the wholeness of two joining back into the one they always were meant to be.

But no. Nelo Angelo would never allow anyone other than Mundus to take his body. Master would have never touched him if he had defiled himself so and would never have lowered himself to bed something so unclean as a sullied human, even one with Sparda's demon blood flowing through his veins. He only existed for Master's pleasure.

And Mundus _was_ obviously pleased with him considering the cum that dripped down his thighs when the Emperor abruptly finished, so he would endure any pain so long as Mundus asked it of him. Chilly hands petted his flank for a moment before Mundus pulled out roughly and let Nelo Angelo sag down onto the mattress, rolling onto his side.

"Ah, such a fragile body you have," Mundus sighed. "You bruise as easily as ripe fruit."

Nelo Angelo glanced at himself and saw there were indeed bruises everywhere. Finger marks pressed into curves of his hips, on the inside of his thighs, probably in places he couldn't see. He could feel some internal tearing as well since Master very rarely had the patience to prepare him, but that all would be gone soon. A small price for Master's enjoyment.

"It's a wonder you survived this long. You'd be lost without me." Mundus lay his hand on Nelo Angelo's hip again, pushing him until he was flat on his back, and squeezed until it hurt. He seemed amused by matching his fingers to where the bruises were.

"Yes, Master," Nelo Angelo said dutifully while trying not to flinch. "I am nothing without you."

"You should always remember that," Mundus said as he moved from the bed and pulled on his discarded vestments. "I will return in the evening. Be sure to have the servants clean you up and change the sheets." He paused and touched Nelo Angelo's chin to force his head up. "My lovely angel. All of you mine."

And then he was gone out of the room. Nelo Angelo's heart swelled from the compliment, and he took a moment to bask in Mundus' praise. It was what he was meant for. His hand touched his abdomen, and he wondered if this would be the time he finally conceived another child for his Master.

It seemed doubtful since his male shape didn't naturally have the ability. If he went into Devil Trigger, his body could create the necessary structures to be impregnated -- and even carry those over internally back to his human form so the embryo would stay viable -- but he couldn't remember a time when Mundus had deigned to fuck him in his demon form. Still, Nero's blessed existence was proof enough that they had managed it somehow.

Absently, he reached up and twined his fingers around the amulet that lay heavily on his chest. They hadn't discussed more children, but considering how often his master wanted sex, he couldn't help but hope that he might be able to give him more offspring. A sibling for Nero would be nice too, so his son wouldn't be as lonely while he was occupied with entertaining Master's desires.

But on the other hand, Nelo Angelo had to admit he liked being able to devote all of his other time to just his wonderful son. Doting on Nero made him happy, and if there were more children--

"Momma…?"

Nelo Angelo hurriedly cleaned himself off with the wrinkled silk sheets. Nero wasn't bothered by nudity, he saw enough of it because Master preferred Nelo Angelo unclothed during their time together, but the other evidence was another matter.

"Momma, are you okay?" Nero peered through the crack in the doorway to his own room.

"I'm fine," Nelo Angelo assured him. He rolled off the bed, ignoring the twinge of torn muscles healing, and pulled on a gauzy robe that Master had approved of. "You don't need to worry about me."

Nero pushed the door open further and scampered inside. "I heard you yelling. Did Father hurt you?"

"It's alright." Nelo Angelo knelt and welcomed his small son into his arms. He didn't want to lie to his boy, and Nero's scrunched face clearly said he wasn't fooled. His child was too clever at times. It was hard to remember he was only five.

"I don't like it when he hurts you," Nero mumbled.

"You know I will heal. It's what Master wants. It pleases him."

"If he loves you, why would he be happy to hurt you?" Nero asked, blue eyes too shrewd for a young child. " _I_ love you, and I don't like it when you hurt."

Nero was also too kind. Nelo Angelo feared the future would be difficult for him, but he didn't like to think too hard about it. It would be Master's choice, and Master knew best.

"You must be hungry," he said, scooping Nero up into his arms. "Let's go back to your room and get you something to eat."

His son was still frowning, but the short arms that wrapped around Nelo Angelo's neck filled his heart with a different kind of warmth, one he didn't want to compare too closely to the dimmer feelings Mundus filled him with.

"Okay, Momma, but you have to eat too."

"If you wish." He pressed a kiss to his boy's cheek and glanced over his shoulder at the demonic servants that manifested. "Fetch food for the Emperor's son. And clean up the bed." He could bathe once Nero was cared for.

Nelo Angelo carried his son away from Master's bedroom and into the calming safety of Nero's own space. It was the same size as the Emperor's chambers, far too much for just one child, but Mundus made sure it was appointed with every luxury imaginable. Rare, beautiful books, fine clothes in a child's size, trinkets and jewels from long gone eras. Admittedly, Master had little understanding of a human child's interests, but he frequently brought new things for his son to decorate the room.

The handful of toys, though, had been suggestions from Nelo Angelo, and he smiled when he spotted the gorgeously painted wood blocks Nero had spread out on the floor. "Do you want to play with me?" he asked his son. Nero's grin took his breath away.

"Yeah, I'm building a house. You can help!"

"A house, you say?" Nelo Angelo laughed as he set Nero down next to the pile of blocks. He sat across from his son. "Whatever for? Will we live there?"

A peculiar tightness pinched Nero's lips, forming little creases beside his mouth. "Yeah. And nobody hurts you there."

Nelo Angelo's hand hovered over the ornate cube he was going to add to Nero's structure. He didn't like the chill that spread out from his stomach. "You want your father to live here too, don't you?"

His boy didn't speak for a moment while he stacked two more of the blocks. "No," he said in a voice that held too much strength to be a whim. "I don't want him here."

"Nero…" Nelo Angelo dropped his hand to touch his son's arm, momentarily stilling his movements. "You know your father loves you. He brings you all these nice presents, doesn't he? And he protects us. I… I am too weak to keep you safe without him."

Having his boy avoid meeting his gaze hurt more than he could have imagined. Nero picked up another block and set it down to finish the perimeter for his building. "He won't let you leave anyway. You're not allowed to go outside without him," Nero muttered.

It was true that Mundus required that Nelo Angelo stay inside their suite unless accompanied by him, but it was for his own safety. The demons that roamed and guarded the castle were dangerous, and there was always a chance one might injure even the Emperor's concubine. It wasn't for control. It was out of love, he told himself.

Nero was looking at him sadly, almost like he could read his thoughts. "Someday I'll protect you, Momma," his boy said quietly, "because I love you. I promise I won't leave without you."

It was a wonderful sentiment, so much of Nero's kindness wrapped up in the words, but Nelo Angelo balked at the warm joy it set off like a firework in him. He shouldn't feel this way. _His son_ shouldn't feel the way he did either because there were perils to such thinking.

He might be physically weak, but he could look after Nero in other ways. There was no reason Master ever needed to hear of this moment. Nelo Angelo forced a smile that certainly didn't fool his clever son, but he tried anyway.

"It's alright, Nero. You'll understand someday."

* * *

**V. Fullering**

Sinking down onto the bed, Nelo Angelo rolled his shoulders. He was fresh from a bath and considered perhaps he should take a cue from his son for a post-training nap. A surge of pride washed over him when he thought of how well Nero was doing in his sword lessons, absorbing and adapting everything Nelo Angelo taught him to make a style all his own. It might take years, but eventually Nero would refine it into something formidable.

The thought made Nelo Angelo pause. His boy was almost twelve now and constantly wanting to push the limits of what he could do, but every time Master heard of it, he expressed displeasure. Master had even forbidden their son from using his budding devil powers, an edict Nelo Angelo had first assumed was meant to keep Nero safe. Lately, though, it had begun to… concern him that Mundus seemed to prefer their son stay as weak as his mother. 

He shook his head and sighed. Foolish thoughts. Master knew what was best for them, and he shouldn't doubt his intentions. No good could come of it.

The doors swinging open startled him, and Master swept into the room as if summoned by the moment of emotional disloyalty. His form rippled slightly, settling into the smaller transformation, and his dark eyes burned when they settled on Nelo Angelo.

"Master, is something wrong?" he said. The question was mere formality. He could plainly see his lord was disturbed.

"How funny you should ask that," Mundus said. He shed his gold-embroidered white robes, letting them pool on the floor as he came forward. No further explanation was offered, so Nelo Angelo leaned back into his bedding expectantly.

“Will you let me give you comfort? Take what you need from me, please." He held out his arms in invitation.

Mundus loomed over him, studying Nelo Angelo with his three eyes. He knelt in the space between Nelo Angelo's thighs and dug his hands into the muscle to push them further apart. "There are times," he said, voice strange, "when you look _too_ much like your father."

"Master…?" Nelo Angelo hesitated. He knew that Mundus held some morbid affection for his traitorous sire, but the way it revealed itself was often unpredictable. Sometimes Master was uncharacteristically gentle and nostalgic. Other times…

Icy fingers closed around his throat and cut off his air. Nelo Angelo went still. There was no point in fighting; that would only anger Mundus, and Master had a right to do with Nelo Angelo as he wished.

His body jolted when Mundus thrust painfully into him, hard cock violently breaching the tight ring of muscle. It was scarcely the first time they'd fucked like this, Master leaning on his trachea until he started to gasp, but on every other occasion he stopped after only a short time. Master leaned harder, staring down into his face with a frightful intensity.

"I have to wonder why I bothered to save you." Master pulled out slowly only to slam back in, spearing Nelo Angelo open and surely rupturing something inside in a bright spark of pain. "Perhaps I should have invited him to be our audience, and he can see how easily you submit to me," he hissed and squeezed harder on his throat.

Nelo Angelo creased his brows, unsure of who had set off his Emperor's ire. He tried to speak, to soothe the anger, but only a croak came out. His lungs were beginning to burn, and his face felt hot.

The laughter that erupted from Mundus was ugly and sent a burst of something too close to fear through Nelo Angelo. "Look at you now, so helpless. You can't stop me from fucking your pathetic brains out, and you don't want to. You need me. _Me,_ not him!"

Him? Just who was it that infuriated Master so?

"Fragile little angel, fueled by a traitor's blood," Mundus sneered. The brutal, steady snap of his hips drove out what little air was still in Nelo Angelo's aching lungs. 

"Ma… Ma--ster…" Nelo Angelo touched the Emperor's wrist, just an anxious tap of his fingertips to indicate that he was beginning to lose consciousness. Blackness filmed the edges of his vision.

"And fostered by that woman's body. She made you _weak_ just like she did him. _Both_ of them."

Blinking back the spots swimming before his eyes, Nelo Angelo couldn't make sense of the condemnation. Woman? What woman? Who are these people Master despised so much? He couldn't even focus with the way the room was spinning.

"No! Stop hurting Mom!"

Nelo Angelo's watering eyes widened when he saw Nero launch himself at Mundus, the boy's teeth bared in sharp fury. With a casual motion, Master swatted their son out of the air and sent him careening across the floor and into the wall hard enough to make a deafening crack. Nero laid there in a sunned heap, thankfully still breathing, if injured.

"Ma...ster…" It was barely a whisper, but Nelo Angelo closed his fingers as tight as he could on Mundus' wrist. Even if he was going to black out, he wanted to be sure Nero was alright. The Emperor could do what he liked with Nelo Angelo if their son was tended to first.

The sudden withdrawal of Mundus' weight let him suck in a huge, raspy breath, setting him into a coughing fit, and he watched in surprise as his Master shifted off the bed. The tall, elegant figure moved calmly over to where their son was struggling to right himself. Nero froze when his father knelt in front of him.

"Little boy," Mundus said. "What did you hope to accomplish?"

Nero lowered his eyes, swallowing loudly. The tremor in his frame was visible from across the room, and Nelo Angelo swung a leg over the edge of the bed only to stop. If Master wished to discipline their child, that was his right, so why did he still desperately want to intercede? What could he possibly do? 

"Look at me," Mundus ordered, and he seized Nero's chin when their boy hunched his shoulders in refusal. "Such a disobedient, delicate angel you are. However… It seems you are starting to grow up. How old are you now?"

The strong hand jostled him when Nero stayed mute. "E-eleven," the boy stuttered.

"Hardly a blink of an eye," Mundus said. "And yet that filthy human blood of yours makes you age so quickly. I suppose that means I won't have to wait much longer." He tipped Nero's head from one side to the other. "You really are going to be as pretty as your mother."

A cold knot formed in Nelo Angelo's stomach at those words. Now he couldn't breathe for a different reason.

"Stay right here." Mundus rose gracefully to his feet and returned to the bed. "Wait until we are finished. Then you can comfort your mother."

"Master," Nelo Angelo said, but he couldn't collect his thoughts enough to say anything more. Was he going to raise a protest about Nero's injury? Or forcing their child to stay in the room while they had sex? Or even the more nebulous, but more dreadful, fear that the Emperor's comments to their son had stirred inside.

He did none of that, pulling his lover close and letting Mundus have his way with him. Whatever hopes he had of this being over quickly were dashed when it became clear that Master had no desire to rush now, taking his time with lazy, languid motions and words of obscene praise whispered into Nelo Angelo's ear just loud enough to be heard by the room’s other occupant.

Nelo Angelo spread his legs to cradle his master and ran his fingers through the fine strands of dark hair. He tried to offer Mundus everything he liked, to remain pliant and welcoming through the fear unfurling in his heart. Even with Master stroking his cock, he couldn't concentrate on enjoying the rare pleasure that was being gifted to him, not with Nero curled up against the wall, hands clamped over his ears and eyes tightly shut.

The only thing Nelo Angelo had of worth was his body anyway, so he would use it to protect his son and keep him safe. He would strip himself bare and give it all to his master. It was hard to know how long it went on, much longer than normal, but eventually the Emperor had his fill and coaxed an orgasm out of Nelo Angelo for good measure.

"You see, obedience is rewarded," Mundus said as he pulled himself free of his concubine’s limp body with a lewd sound. He paused and raked his eyes over the prone man. "You're a mess. Go clean yourself."

The Emperor reached down and lifted his clothing from the floor before draping it to barely cover himself. He left the bed and headed for the door, only taking a minute to glance at where Nero was still curled up. The boy met his eyes and glared.

"You know, my budding angel, such rebellion makes you too much like your forebearer. It's time I dealt with the other one before you become too unruly."

"Other one?" Nelo Angelo asked in surprise. A distant, nagging thought made his headache, so he forced it away.

"Nothing to trouble yourself with, angel. It won't be a concern for much longer." Mundus swept out of their chambers without another look.

Hastily, Nelo Angelo wiped the cum off his stomach and thighs before hurrying over to his son. "Nero, let me see." He reached for the boy's head to make sure he had healed as quickly as he normally did, but Nero slapped his hand away.

"You don't care!" the boy declared, blue eyes bright with anger. "He hurt you! He hurts you all the time, and you don't care, but I thought… I thought you'd care if he hurt me!"

"I care," Nelo Angelo soothed. "I care very much. You know that, don't you?"

"But you just _lay_ there! You didn't try to stop him."

The accusations hurt more because they rang of truth. "What could I do?" Nelo Angelo asked guiltily. "I'm not strong enough to stop him. I'm sure he didn't mean to injure you; he was just upset."

Nero stared at him incredulously, and Nelo Angelo winced. “Your father surely didn’t mean to hurt you,” he tried again, knowing he was barely convincing himself this time, “but don’t worry. I’ll work harder to please him from now on, so he won’t be angry again.”

His son shook his head and clenched his jaw. "You actually think that's going to work, don't you?"

"Of course. He's your father. I'm sure he would never really do something so--"

"But what about you?!" Nero cried.

Nelo Angelo smiled warmly, cupping his boy’s face in his hands. “That doesn’t matter. The only important thing is that you are safe and that Master Mundus is pleased.”

"No." Nero's mouth flattened, eyes going flinty, and he clambered to his feet, forcing his mother to stare up at him. "He hurt us both. He doesn't care about us. I _hate_ him."

"Don't say that." Nelo Angelo rose, his heart thudding anxiously. There were too many ears, too many eyes in every corner of Master's palace for such talk. Even if Mundus wouldn't kill his own child, there were consequences for treason.

"I hate him," Nero snapped stubbornly. "He doesn't love us, and I wish he wasn't my father!"

Nelo Angelo registered the stinging in his palm before he realized what he'd done. Nero blinked at him and lifted a hand to his reddened cheek with an open mouth.

He really hadn't meant to do it. The thought of striking his son had never entered his mind, but the fear moved him without knowing. A sick tangle of regret turned his stomach. "Nero, you can't say something like that, don't you understand?" he rushed out. "If anyone else heard you say this, you could be--"

Nero bolted through the doorway and out into the hall.

"Wait! Don't!" Panic weighed him down, and Nelo Angelo stopped short at the threshold. He wasn't allowed to leave. Master had ordered him to always stay within their chambers unless he was asked to accompany Mundus, but it was _dangerous_ for Nero to be alone. If he was cornered by a demon he could be seriously wounded or even--

"I'll go find him."

He turned at the sound of an unfamiliar voice and found himself staring at a human woman.

No, definitely not human. A demon that Master had brought to their chamber a few times before while watching Nelo Angelo with three curious eyes. But just as it had then, her parody face was a spike into his brain.

Nelo Angelo reeled from a burst of memories, a golden-haired woman with a red shawl. The woman that Mundus hated so much. The woman that loved her sons. A grief so deep and vast it had devoured him.

The demoness tilted her head towards him, obviously noting his pain. "I'll find the Emperor's son and make sure he doesn't get hurt," she said and didn't wait for his assent before taking off down the hallway.

Nelo Angelo sank down in the doorway as the pressure in his head left with her. He breathed in deeply to calm his racing heart, but it was hard to settle himself when Nero wasn't near. He'd grown to rely so much on his son's presence that he'd lost sight of how Nero was changing. The child was unhappy, angry, and the fear of the ways Master would choose to correct that willfulness, because he _would_ , left Nelo Angelo terrified.

But what could he do? He was only the Emperor's concubine, utterly powerless and helpless to protect his own child. There was no one for them to turn to. No one to save them.

What could he do?

* * *

**VI. Tempering**

Nero skidded around the corner, heart going a mile-a-minute. He hadn't expected to be chased by demons before he even made it to the stairs. If Father were here, they wouldn't have dared to even approach him, but on his own he was a sitting duck.

"Just leave me alone!" Nero shouted as he barreled forward--

Right into a solid, living mass. Hands grabbed his shoulders, and Nero lashed out with his fists, pummeling whatever beast thought to touch him. 

"Whoa there! You're the one that ran into me!"

The voice lacked the demonic distortion he was used to, and Nero glanced up and into a face that made him gawk. "M-Mom?"

Silver eyebrows rose as the man in red stared back with a strange expression. "Uh, not your mom, but… Who are _you_?"

It was weird how much this man looked like Mom, from the color of his eyes to the line of his nose and the shape of his jaw. Was this guy the 'other one' Father was talking about? Hope jumped into his throat. "I'm Nero. Who're you? Are you here to help us?"

"Name's Dante," the man said, still staring. "And who's 'us'?"

"Me and Mom," Nero said urgently. If Father was worried about this guy, then he might be just the right person. "You've gotta help us get out of here! My Father is really bad, and he hurts Mom and--"

"Slow down there, kid. Not that I don't want to help, but who exactly is your dad?"

Nero hesitated, fingers gripping at the straps on Dante’s vest. "Mundus, the Emperor of Hell…"

Dante's eyes widened in surprise but quickly narrowed. “Someone told you _he’s_ your father, huh? Okay. Why don't you take me to your mom, and I'll see what I can do."

"This way!" Nero grabbed his gloved hand and tried to tug him along, but Dante scooped him up off his feet and under one arm instead.

Ignoring Nero's indignant shout, the man in red smirked at him. "I’ve got it covered, kid. And I'll be pretty mad if you try to roast this kid, Trish."

"I wouldn't dream of it." Nero frowned at the human-looking artificial demon who flipped her hair over her shoulder. He’d seen her briefly before, running some errands and kneeling to Father while he gloated. Her smile was cold, but she took a few steps backward when Dante aimed his sword at her.

"Because he's your boss's kid?" Dante asked. "Or because he's _Verg--_?"

"All I was supposed to do is make sure he wasn't hurt," she said, hands up. "I'll take him back where he'll be safe if you'll let me."

Dante cocked his head, watching her for a second before he looked down at Nero again. Then he grinned. "Hold on tight."

With a burst of speed and a crackle of transforming demonic energy, Dante was past Trish and down the hall before she could react. Nero dug his fingers into whatever he could, though the arm around him was secure enough that he probably wouldn't go flying off. Probably.

"You're like Mom!" Nero cried in delight. A half-demon! Maybe that was why they looked so much alike?

"Guess we'll find out," Dante said, voice echoing with power. "Which way?"

"Left!" Nero said. "Right! Right again!"

They zoomed down the corridors, blowing by the sentries and leaving them in shambles. Dante was _amazing_ , and Nero started to really hope he could save them. Father was strong, but he wasn't fast. Maybe Dante could outrun him!

"That big door over there!" Nero pointed to the partially open doorway, and Dante lowered his shoulder to shove it the rest of the way open. It banged loudly against the wall while Dante stumbled to a halt and set Nero back on his feet.

"Not sure how much time we'll have before someone comes, so where's your mother--"

The red man's jaw snapped shut, and his devil shape blinked back into human.

Mom had frozen where he'd been hurrying across the room toward them and stared wide-eyed at Dante. Thankfully, he’d put on some clothes since it would’ve been embarrassing to explain that to a stranger.

"Don't worry, Mom," Nero said, running over to grab his hand. "He's here to help us!"

"Vergil?" Dante whispered, and he physically shook himself, expression hardening. "I _knew_ it! The second I saw that kid, I knew he had to be your-- Wait. Did you call him _Mom_?"

Nelo Angelo swept Nero behind him, putting himself between them and taking a defensive stance. "I don't know… who you are… but…"

"Mom?" Nero grabbed for his hand again. "Mom, are you okay? Are you hurt?"

"I'm fine. I just… I need…" He clutched at his head, breathing hard, and a bolt of fear hit Nero hard. Had Father come back? Had he done something to Mom? This was bad.

"What do you mean you don't know who I am?" Dante asked. "What the hell is going on here, Vergil?"

Nelo Angelo clenched his jaw tight, and a bead of sweat dripped off his face. "Stop calling me that. I don't… know you. We don't need you… to save us!"

"Mom, please. He can help us," Nero said, squeezing his mother's shaking fingers. "I don't want Father to hurt you ever again, so _please_!"

Dante was curiously still, gaze darting from Nero to Nelo Angelo and back like he was figuring something out. "Your _mom_ …" Slowly he reached up and pulled something from underneath his shirt, and Nero gasped. A silver amulet. Exactly like the one Mom wore all the time, just a different metal. "You don't know me, huh?" Dante said.

"That… That's…!" Nelo Angelo trembled and fell to his knees. He squeezed his eyes shut and turned away.

"That bastard did something to you, didn't he?" Dante pressed, coming a few steps closer but stopping when Mom dragged Nero into his protective arms. "And him being Mundus' kid? Bullshit. What's the truth, Vergil? Who's his real father?"

Nero's jaw hung loose in shock. Could this guy be right? Was he _really_ not Mundus' son? Never in his life had he questioned what he'd been told, but if there was even a sliver of possibility, he was going to cling to it.

"I don't know you," Nelo Angelo protested, but even Nero thought it sounded weak. "I don't… I…"

Dante dangled the amulet from his fist and took another step towards them. "You've gotta remember, Vergil. Whatever he did to you, _fight it_. You're stronger than him, I know it!"

"You're wrong. I'm not strong. I can't fight him. I could never--" Nelo Angelo pressed the heels of his hands against his eyes, struggling for breath. "I _can't_."

The sound of scuttling demons coming down the corridor made Nero tense up. He turned to Dante but knew he didn't have to say anything from the look on Dante's face. It was taut and serious when he glanced over his shoulder at the door. "I'm going to end this, Vergil. Whatever it takes, I'll set you free."

"Wait!" Nero grabbed the necklace around his mother's neck, pulling in just the right way so the clasp came loose like he’d done by accident a few times when he was younger. He threw it to the stranger who was promising everything he wanted. "You need this!"

"Nero! What are you doing?!" Nelo Angelo exclaimed. He started to get up, but even just looking at Dante seemed to be causing him a lot of pain, and he sank back down.

"If you have that, the guards won't attack you," Nero said quickly. "Father… _Mundus_ said that will open some of the inner doors too."

Dante looked down at the gold amulet in his hand and then smiled at Nero. It was soft, gentle in a way that only Mom had ever looked at him, and he felt unexpectedly warm. "Thanks, Nero. You just look after your mom. I'll come back for you both, I promise. You don't have to be afraid anymore."

The man in red spun around and raced out the door.

"What have you done? You've sent him to his death, and when Master finds out that you _helped_ him..." Nelo Angelo whispered.

Nero lifted his chin, refusing to let the hope give in to the fear. "I did it to save you, Mom. Because I love you. Dante's going to win, and then we'll be safe."

Nelo Angelo -- or was it really Vergil? Nero wasn't sure what to think yet -- leaned back on his heels and pulled Nero into his arms again. "I… hope you're right."

They stayed like that for a long, long time, hanging on to each other for support, until the whole castle started to shake. Nero got up and tugged his mother with him out into the hall.

"I… I can't possibly leave!" Mom said, hesitating just outside the door. "Without Master here, I can't--"

"I'm _not_ leaving you," Nero insisted. "And I'm not staying here. You're coming with me, Mom. _Please_."

He saw the flicker in his mother's blue eyes and knew he wouldn't refuse. Mom could _never_ refuse when Nero pulled out the magic word. "L-let's go, then. Just be careful," Nelo Angelo said.

Maybe it wasn't smart to go running when Dante had said he'd come back, but Nero had a feeling. He yanked every time his mother wavered, not stopping as they hurried down through the halls and to the stairs. The lack of demonic guards was a relief, and Nero even felt a moment of spiteful satisfaction thinking of what Dante must have done to them.

They spiraled down the stairs, passing several floors, and Nero started to realize he'd never gone this far from their rooms. They reached the bottom before he'd come up with a plan.

"Um, I think… This way?" Nero glanced at his mother who seemed even less sure than he was. "Yeah, this way. Let's go!"

He grabbed Mom's hand again and headed in the direction he felt a welcoming tug from. The presence seemed like it was getting nearer.

"Vergil! Nero!" Dante appeared around the corner, looking a little beat up but grinning like a maniac. "Great timing. We gotta go."

"I told you, Mom," Nero looked up at his mother whose face was pinched with pain, and he towed him along. "It's gonna be okay now. Dante's going to help us. Everything will be just--"

The moment they made it into the main entrance hall, the ground rumbled. He saw Trish's eyes go wide just as the floor collapsed out from under them. Nero tried to hold on to Mom as best he could, getting the wind knocked out of him when Nelo Angelo landed partly on top of him, but they both were in good enough shape to scramble to their feet.

"Nero!" Nelo Angelo gasped and pulled him close. "Nero, are you hurt? Please tell me you're alright!"

"I'm okay, don't worry," Nero said quickly. He looked around the underground chamber, finding himself in thigh deep water. It was cold, but not unbearable. He spotted Dante and the demoness just a little further in.

Then the world ripped apart.

It was like someone shredded a hole in the wall right through to the Underworld. The horrible, snarling, too-many-eyed _blob_ that lurched partway through the gap wasn't like any demon Nero had ever seen, but he knew what it was anyway. Father was now just as ugly on the outside as he was on the inside.

Nelo Angelo hauled Nero as far away as they could get, curling over his son protectively. "N-no… No, no, no!" he babbled. "Master, forgive me! We didn't mean to leave!"

"Wicked little whore!" Mundus snarled, massive hand pawing through the water. "I should have known your foul bloodline would betray me again. I'm going to kill you and that half-breed spawn of yours like I should have when I found you!"

Nero felt his mother suck in a breath against his spine only for it to stutter back out.

"No one talks to my brother like that," Dante said menacingly. He held up two weapons Nero had never seen the likes of and aimed them at Mundus. "You lied to them all this time, didn't you? Nero was never your kid at all. He's _mine,_ and there's no way in hell I'm letting you lay a hand on either of them!"

Mouth dropping open, Nero could only stare in shock as the blonde demon lent her power to Dante and the pair blasted Mundus back through the rift. He flinched when Father -- No, _not Father,_ he thought -- tried to hang on and pull himself back through.

"Dante, I will return! And I will rule this world!" Mundus shrieked, clawing vainly at the edges of the portal until his grip gave way.

"Goodbye!" Dante taunted with a salute. "And when you do come back, give my regards to Nero when he puts a sword through your ugly face, will ya?"

The gate snapped shut with a rush of air, cutting off Mundus' desperate scream, and Nelo Angelo scrambled forward, sloshing through the water toward the empty space. “No, Master, don’t leave me! Master, I _need_ you! Please come back!”

Grabbing onto his Mother’s waist, Nero dug in his heels and practically picked the man up off his feet. “Mom, stop! He’s gone, okay? We don’t need him anymore!”

“How can you say that?!” Nelo Angelo spun to face his son, eyes wild and lost. “I need to go to him, don’t you understand? I need to--”

“So, you’ll just leave me? Are you going to abandon me for _him_?” Nero set his teeth, but he knew the words had struck hard by the horror that washed over Mom’s face. With shaking hands, Nelo Angelo reached out and cupped his jaw, mouth opening without any sound.

Dante’s hand on Mom’s shoulder seemed to break the moment’s spell. His eyes were full of the love that had always been absent from Mundus. “I don’t know everything he did to you, Vergil, but swear I’ll help you get back to yourself. Just as soon as we get off this stupid island…”

"We're too late!" Trish cried over the sound of stones falling and splashing into the water. 

"No, Trish. It's never too late." Dante yanked them all out of the way as a big… _thing_ came falling down. Nero had never seen anything like it before, but the huge smirk on Dante's face told him it was something good. "Com'on, gang. This is our ride!"

Dante pulled Mom up first, saying something quiet to him but not pausing even when Nelo Angelo -- _Vergil_ barely responded. He looked like he was in a daze. Trish was next, cramming into the seat with Mom, and then Dante easily lifted Nero up and into the contraption to sit on Mom’s lap. "You ready to blow this joint?" Dante asked, and Nero grinned back.

The rest happened fast. The plane, as Dante called it, turned out to be able to fly. It was noisy and shook almost as badly as the castle, but it lifted them into the air and away. The island exploded just as they got clear, shock waves making the plane rock for a terrifying moment. Dante just laughed and pretty soon Nero did too.

He’d never felt so _weightless_ in his life. The constant fear, worrying that Mundus would go too far and seriously hurt Mom, that Mundus would decide that _Nero_ wasn’t good enough and just get rid of him. He hadn’t realized how heavy it was until now.

Trish stared out at the sky, trying to take it all in at once. Nero couldn't blame her. He'd seen pictures in books, but this was something else. "The sky!" she exclaimed. "So clear! So blue!"

"Sure is. What do you think, Nero? You like it out here?" Dante glanced over his shoulder.

"It's amazing!" Nero cried. He wanted to say more, to ask a million questions, but Mom's silence was starting to worry him. He could feel how tense Vergil was against him. "Mom, it's gonna be okay now," Nero said, hugging him again.

His mother blinked as if he'd just woken up from a terrible dream. Looking down, Vergil lifted a hand and gently ran his fingers through Nero's hair. "Y-yes… It hurts, but… You're here. You're safe, and that's what matters."

"We're _both_ safe," Nero stressed, laying his head against Mom's shoulder. "Dante told us the truth. He saved us."

"And you don't have to worry anymore," Dante piped up as the plane banked off toward land. "I'll look after you two as long as you'll let me. You’re stuck with me now!"

"That…" Vergil started only to cut off for a moment. Nero glanced up and saw a new clarity in his mother's eyes that made his heart warm. "That doesn't sound so bad at all."

* * *

**VII. Polishing**

Vergil stirred into wakefulness but didn't open his eyes immediately. It often took him a few minutes to orient himself, having to remember _everything_.

They'd fled Mallet Island and come back to a place that he knew only with the vaguest feelings, and memories had started to pour back in fits and starts in the weeks after. It happened at the oddest times, leaving him on his knees as he remembered cherished, long lost moments from his childhood and shaking in rage when he realized just how much Mundus had stolen from him. 

The monster wasn't dead yet, but Vergil privately vowed to fix that as soon as he had his strength back.

A warm body rolled half over him, and Vergil went still until he realized who it was. "Mmmornin', Vergil," Dante slurred, nuzzling his chin. His twin’s lips brushed the skin behind his ear and made him shiver.

Mundus had stolen things from Dante too, Vergil had come to understand. He had missed the birth of his son and all the intervening milestones, every moment that Dante would have gladly embraced while Mundus had been absent or even scornful. Nero had been ecstatic to learn Dante was his father, and the two were quickly forming a strong bond between them. Watching them connect and the absurd amount of joy Dante took in showing Nero every new thing he could think of was a comfort that helped Vergil drag himself back whenever he faltered.

"Good morning," Vergil murmured, tracing long fingers over Dante's spine.

"Damn, that feels nice," Dante purred. "You always make me feel good, gorgeous."

Moments like these also helped him remember himself. Dante had been careful with him, never asking for anything or pushing him, only giving whatever his twin needed. He was the complete antithesis of Mundus in every way that mattered. It allowed Vergil to sink back into their intimacy at his own pace, and he was beginning to crave more than soft touches and languid kisses again.

"I could make you feel even better," Vergil teased.

Dante's head came up, searching his face for a few seconds. "Yeah? I'd be up for that. We got time now. Besides, you promised."

"Promised?" Vergil sifted through the tangle of memories looking for the right one, but Dante wrapped his arms around his torso and rolled them over so Vergil lay on top of his younger brother.

Dante grinned at him and spread his legs. "You sure did. You get to do whatever you want to me this time. And anytime, really."

"Ah, _that_ promise." The memory stood out strong and sent another shudder of desire through him. "I suppose I must then. I am a man of my word."

"Oh yeah, baby," Dante said, running his heel along the back of Vergil's thigh and gently pulling him closer. "Whatever you want, I'm here for you. I've been waiting a long time for this, but I'll wait as long as you need."

Vergil chuckled at his brother's enthusiasm and leaned in to kiss him. Their mouths fit together so perfectly now, lips pushing and pulling in a hungry rhythm until he couldn't hold himself back any longer. He nipped the tender skin under Dante’s jaw just to hear him gasp.

"Well then, I suppose I won't make you wait anymore," Vergil whispered into Dante's throat. "But next time will be your turn again."

Dante beamed as bright as a nova star, warm and generous. "Yeah. Next time."


End file.
